When You're Not A Twitard
by LadyBritish
Summary: (No Mary-Sue) A Twilight AU, where a geeky girl with questionable sanity is transported into the body of Bella at the beginning of the book. When Edward starts to love her for who she is instead of her...*cough* scent, uh, the problem is she has no interest in him and wants her life to get back to normal...but how can this be achieved when there's an insane tracker after her?
1. Prologue

**Summary: A Twilight AU, where a geeky girl with questionable sanity is transported into the body of Bella at the beginning of the book. When Edward starts to love her for who she is instead of her...*cough* scent, uh, the problem is she has no interest in him and wants her life to get back to normal...but how can this be achieved when there's an insane tracker after her? **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Series (it is not a Saga, grr!), Stephenie Meyer does. **

**Review please, I'd love to read your opinions on the story! :) **

**Prologue **

I raced along a crooswalk to reach my destination in time. Glancing at my watch in dismay, the very idea of reaching the local StarBucks seemed further away than ever - but I had to try, I need my energy! The very thought of going through the morning without my delicious Blueberry Yogurt Muffin is an utter travesty.

A breath of relief escaped me as I reached the door to the iconic coffee house - but the disgusting scent of the famed American beverage made me have an instant desire to gag, gah! I _hate, hate, hate_ coffee with a passion, _what?!_ You might le gasp in dismay, dear nosy stranger that reads about my life like a stalker. An American, not like coffee? Yes, I'm one of the 0.1% of Americans that don't like coffee, like the British people that don't like tea.

Double le gasp!

Yes, reader - there are British people that hate tea, Italians that despise Pizza and probably...maybe, French people that aren't obsessed with snails and frogs.

Okay, onto the topic at hand, my beloved Blueberry Yogurt Muffin...mmm, my precious.

NNNNOOOOOOOO! There's a giant waiting line, damn. _And_ that's my cue to go...w-without my precious, the horror!

I didn't notice it in my haste - the car, I mean. What was I suppossed to do? I was wallowing in my grief, okay? No judgies.

And then it hit me...no pun intended.

It hurt, badly. I think it would be a waste of words and time to be honest, describing the pain I felt after I was hit by a car. Why couldn't I see anything? Gosh, I was damn tired - sleep, delicious sleep - come to mama. Yes, I shouldn't be going to bed late when I have work in the morning, sue me.

Oh, there's a pretty light. Now what in the wor-


	2. Alternative

**Author's Note:**** This story will not be following the events of the book word by word, as our protagonist will obviously react differently to our passive Canon narrator Bella Swan. But, it will have her go through similar experiences to Bella, just not all of them. Updates are every Friday or sooner, depending on my schedule and all...**

**Disclaimer:**** I (thankfully) do not own the Twilight Series, Stephenie Meyer does. **

**Review please, I'd love to read the opinions of all of my readers! **

**Chapter 1: Alternative**

I woke up, and was wholly expecting to be greeted by a white ceiling and tear-stained relatives or something. It was absolutely creepy, when I found myself in a bedroom_that wasn't mine._

Okay, I panicked a little - then I calmed down when I found myself in a girl's bedroom. But, it didn't really look like a normal girl's bedroom (ha, how ironic of me) at all. Well, mine really isn't - but what I mean is, a girl that's obsessed with fitting in and...stuff.

So maybe this chick kidnapped me and is keeping me hostage? She may possibly even be insane, well, beyond my version of insane anyway.

'Uh, Bella…I'm heading to the station. You've got first day of school this morning, just to remind you.' A man I've never heard before calls from behind the bedroom door.

I freeze, and mutter several times under my breath. Who the hell is this Bella girl he's apparently talking to? I must be in her room - I recall the accident now...maybe she's being nice and patched me up? It's possible my injuries weren't as dramatic as I originally believed them to be.

But good god! Everything ached, my neck feels stiff and I feel like shit. I spot a mirror, and run to it as if I were some idiot on the cheer team - okay, not all cheerleaders are inhumane people that do nothing but lower the self-esteem of girls everywhere. Some, like my best friend Cassidy, are actually really nice and sweet. She's pretty, blonde and is popular for her generous candour and altogether pleasant demeanor. I know, I know, you're probably raising an eyebrow at this - but it's true.

And - HOLY SHIT! I...I'm different, not like in plastic surgery different, but my entire face has changed different.

This morning I had auburn hair shoved into a messy bun, dull grey eyes and a tan from the famous Californian sun. I also recalled wearing a skirt that went down to my knees, flats (what idiot parades around an _office_ in high heels, for god's sake?) and a white shirt tucked into my skirt. You know, the traditional uniform - but my motive was not to look like a complete_ slut._

Now I have brown hair, dark eyes and pale skin - just...depressingly average, yawn. This must be some dream, or maybe the accident from earlier got me into some sort of serious coma. Alright, I'll just play along and hopefully I'll wake up.

'S-sure dad,' _ugh,_ gotta get used to this voice. It's so...grr, annoying and whiny, puh. Now, do I have to get ready for school? Nope, I'm all done. Just dressed...averagely, is that even a word? Whatever.

Wait...SCHOOL?! I thought I was done with that crap years ago. Ugh, I hate this stupid coma.

I skipped through the various, boring steps of the staircase and hurdled outside. The man (who I supposed was my 'dad' in this world) gave me an odd look, as if me being outside was odd - maybe in this world, I was more inclined to be lazy sports-wise, damn. Oh wait, he was talking now, gotta stop daydreaming (ha, like that's ever going to happen).

'Here you go, Bells. Your new car - and it's free.' My 'dad' walked up to a battered car, grinning from ear to ear.

Wow, this guy's amazing! I had to earn money from scratch if I ever had a hope of getting a new car...I could seriously get used to this. I grinned when I saw the Chevy (my dad in the real world was a mechanic, I was kind of his second gear when it came to DIY around the house. Hence the reason to why I'm independent and a tomboy), it looked like the kind of cars you'd see in spy or action movies - despite how old it was, I loved the unique touch it had compared to the other mainstream cars.

'Sweet, this car's awesome! I can tell it is old, who owned it before?' I asked with much enthusiasm. My...uh, 'dad' had to compose himself - I guess he didn't except this kind of response from me, am I out of character or something?

Probably…

'Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?' He asked, hoping I'd remember the guy.

'Nope, ain't got a clue who he is.' I admitted, feeling quite sheepish. This man must be really close to my 'dad', no random passer-by would just hand over a great car like this for cheap, this is a rare antique, I'd gladly rumble into school in it. This car would say; I mean business - jerks, so don't even _think_ for a _second_ about messing with me, ha!

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," 'Dad' prompted. I guess the bad side of this 'coma life' (yes, I am just that creative), is that I can't remember a single damn thing from before I woke up - I guess the bright side is, I apparently moved from my old home. Why though? What insane freak would move from a perfectly happy life in sunny Arizona for this dismal existence in the middle of nowhere? God, I know the President lives in Washington and all, but I didn't even know where Forks was until my supposed dad started yacking earlier. I mean, who names a town after a utensil? And I thought I didn't have a good imagination...

"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continued when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive  
>anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap." Oh, well that's depressing - poor Billy! I wondered whether I could visit him.<p>

'Hey, you know - I'd like to thank Billy in person, you know, for the car. Can I come and see him sometime this week?' I asked, trying to not sound too depressed at the thought of a good family friend in a wheelchair. Man, I should appreciate things more often now - note to self; be more grateful.

'Uh, sure honey. I'm going to watch a game with him during the weekend, so you can catch up with his family if you want. You used to be close with his son, Jacob - he has two older sisters, but they've moved out now,' he explained, and a wave of happiness washed over me. Well, at least I'd have something to do during the weekend other than homework, and it'd be nice to see people I guess.

'Thanks dad,' I said, moving over to hug him. He was stiff as I hugged him, but I didn't care. At least someone would be nice to me in this new universe - and after all, he was apparently the only blood relative I had in this area.

I didn't do much else but unpack the clothes in my suitcase and hang out with my dad downstairs. It was a boring evening, I guess - but that tends to happen when you move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

It was impossible to not ignore the fact that the house had a lack of video games and new technology. Maybe I could either get a new job here, or even in Seattle (at least I think it's the nearest city, I don't remember 'dad' mentioning it - but if I recall correctly, it was somewhere closeby on the map. Yes, I like Geography, okay?). I didn't want to ask my 'dad' for money, so this was the only possible suggestion I could think of that seemed legit and reliable.

The next day after I'd conked out (travelling to an alternate reality is _not_ fun, and saps your energy quicker than a cuppa you've taken three hours after drinking it), I got ready for school and decided to take a spin in my new (sort of) Chevy. It was raining this morning, which surprised me, but then I remembered that I was in Washington now, not California.

I was hoping to take a spin around town, but decided against it - I didn't want to get lost and therefore late on my apparently first day of school.

The school, which was conveniently called 'Forks High School' was not hard to miss. I parked the Chevy smack-bang in the centre of the car-park, so people could spot my awesome ride - I got out of the car and entered the school. I was a little nervous, though, I totally remembered high-school as being a source of painful memories that I was now forced to recall. Gah!

I waltzed right up to the receptionist, who asked, 'Can I help you?' In a bored drawl.

'I'm Bella, the new student,' I explained, not exactly sure how'd she respond - crap, would she ask for some sort of form on the spot or something?

'Of course,' she said. She plunged her hand through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her  
>desk till she found the ones she was looking for. "I have your schedule right here, and a<br>map of the school.' She brought several sheets to the counter to show roe.  
>She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map,<br>and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the  
>day. She smiled at me and hoped, like my apparent father, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled as politely as I could, and headed to my truck to grab my backpack.<p>

It was a little depressing, seeing so many old or not-so-epic-a-design cars, but I knew the students of this school only owned them because they couldn't afford anything better - I bet if they wanted the cars they desired, there'd be an entire parking lot filled with expensive, over-priced cars. See? There's a silver Porsche right at the other side of the parking lot. Wow, never saw _that_ coming, yawn.

I folded the map and shoved it in my new bag - after all, I could easily just ask for directions to my new class, it was better to have a visual memory of where I had to go in my new school. It was better than looking like a complete idiot with me doing a nose - dive every five seconds into some crummy map.

I got out of the truck, locked it with my car keys and went to find my class, which was English Literature. It was near the cafeteria - I entered the room, and introduced myself to the teacher who was a tall, balding man to whom I identified by his nameplate as Mr Mason. He told me to sit next to a girl named Jessica. She quickly made her presence known, patted on the empty chair and started to whisper in my ear.

'Hey, you're new here, right? You can hang out with me and my friends during lunch if you want,' she offered kindly. I accepted her offer with a grateful smile - however, it dropped when I looked at the list of books we had to read during the year. Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner...oh my god, I think my brain will explode! I hate reading, and English - I am utterly crap at it, I only scraped a B because I tortured myself with revision. Ugh, I am going to hate this.

I mean, yeah I totally respect the authors and all...but, geez - I am just _so_ bad at English, plus I've never had a passion for literature. So yeah, I guess I'll just have to pass notes with Jessica. Speaking of, she just gave me one, it says;

_hey, u thought about joining any of the extra curricular activities? _

I responded with:_ no but i will get around to it. im not good at cheerleading, so thats off the cards but i do like volleyball. :) _

Jessica smiled at this, seemingly pleased that I enjoyed some form of an athletic activity. She's started to remind me a little of my friend, Cassidy. Of course I couldn't judge her based off of our first encounter, but she didn't seem all that bad - so I'll give her a shot.

We spent the entirety of English passing notes, and asking questions about each-other. I found out that her favourite colour was red, she liked listening to Gwen Stefani, she has a celebrity crush on Zac Efron and she's Captain of the Volleyball Team. She found out that I have an addiction to the Sims and GTA, my favourite sport is volleyball (basketball was a close second) and that I loved listening to singers people have never even heard of (not to mention Coldplay, god they're amazing).

We parted ways after a failed exchange in cell phone numbers (I didn't even know mine, cuz, you know - I'm in an alternate reality and all), and she promised to meet up with me at the entrance to the cafeteria.

I was forced to admit to myself that now I was utterly lost, and after a fruitless search I couldn't find the map that was in my bag - I could even bet that I'd find it later, when I wouldn't even need it. I breathed a sigh of relief, when a guy who was Asian in appearance and wore glasses came up to me.

'You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?' He greeted warmly, I stopped walking and sidled to the lockers nearby so we could converse properly.

'Known as Bella for short, hey...do you happen to know where my next class is? I'm a new student, so I'm a bit lost.' I admitted with a sheepish shrug.

'Sure, I'll help you. I have Government with Jefferson next, in building six.' He revealed, and introduced himself as Eric.

'Me too - what a coincidence! Well, at least I'm not completely alone until lunch, then,' I was so relieved. It would have been embarrassing to walk into class late - and as a new student too.

'So, this is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?' Ah, so that's where I apparently came from - thankfully, I had spent two years of my childhood there, so I wasn't completely lost. We were now walking together to class. No one paid much attention to me, aside from a nosy face or two.

'Yeah, the weather's very different. Oddly, I find it nice - it was too stuffy in Phoenix...everything seemed dry, parched. I just like how fresh and green everything is here in Forks,' I revealed, and for once a conversation on the weather didn't seem too stale, boring or awkward for me. And now, I didn't have to lie so much - I did experience Arizona, even if it was only for two years.

Eric and I walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings of the gym. He escorted me to the door, and we parted to our respective seats (the teacher had allowed me to sit next to Eric. He seemed to be the nerdy type that nobody wanted to sit next to. I felt bad, remembering my high school days - after all, he had been so polite to me. No one else but he and Jessica felt obliged to introduce theirselves...it was as if their memories of their first days at school had been completely wiped out, and had it not been for them, I would have felt entirely alienated all the day).

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur, despite how much I hated English, I was especially excited for Trigonometry. I was gifted in the subject, science and math was my forte. Mr Varner, who taught the subject, made me stand up and introduce myself. I wanted to give a good first impression, so despite the fact that I was shaking a little (no one seemed to notice and if they did, they didn't care) I smiled, told them my name and a bit of basic information about myself and plopped myself down next to an enthusiastic Eric.

After Trigonometry I had Spanish (I was a total fail in foreign languages, I could tell by the F I had graduated with) and then Health. By the time lunch rolled around, I was starving, so I followed the crowd of students who were headed to the cafeteria.

'Hey Bella, Come sit with us,' I was surprised when Jessica appeared right next to me, when barely two seconds earlier there was no-one there.

I sat down at a table where Eric, a girl named Angela who I recognized from Trigonometry and Spanish, A baby-faced, blue eyed boy named Mike also introduced himself, as did a dark skinned boy named Tyler.

That is when I caught the scent of it - the birds sang, the bees buzzed, and my heart fluttered. No, I did not catch the scent of some glorious male musk. It was that of *sings* food, glorious food! Tralalalalalala! Despite my love of it, the only legit thing I can cook is toast...sad. Oh well, it's not the end of the world if I can't cook.

Speaking of food, I've just gone to go grab some. I piled up my plate, and along the way earned a few snooty balooty upturned noses - one girl in particular, a girl with a pixie cut seemed pretty disgusted at my food choice.

'Hey apple, back off. I can eat what I like, jerk!' I barked, and earned a few horrified stares from people who were either standing or sitting close-by. Whatever, no-one was gunna' mess with me and my preciouses.

'What? Just think of your figure! A moment on the lips, forever on the hips!' I winced - her voice was really shrill, annoyingly so.

'Frankly, I'd prefer to be overweight than some bimbo with low self-esteem, obsessed on pleasing others and with the beauty expectations of a magazine company,' I was hissing like a rattle-snake about to strike. But then I regretted what I said - she was pale, and really thin. Maybe she _was_ anorexic? I recalled a time when I, too was obsessed with fitting in. But as I observed her, I saw the shadows under her eyes, and her odd pupils...I came to the conclusion that she was on drugs.

I had no sympathy for drugies. Harsh, I know, but they were idiots - I don't care what hardships they went through in life, they shouldn't make it worse by buying drugs. This chick looked wealthy, she didn't need drugs. 'Ugh,' I sneered, after I paid the lunch-lady and slammed my tray beside Jessica's.

'What's gotten you in a stink?' She asked in a hushed tone, before she bit into a baguette.

'Bumped into Pixie-Lott, that's what,' I muttered, and grit my teeth before I chomped away at a muffin.

'You mean _the_ Alice Cullen?' She gasped, bug-eyed as her gaze trailed to a table of presumed-drugies. 'Okay, spill,' she whispered into my ear, her eyes still on the pack of grouchy teens that looked like immature toddlers who had been shoved on the naughty table in kindergarten.

'Well, I snapped okay? I exercise a lot during the day, and I got into a foul mood when she seemed to judge me just because of how much I ate, so I said some pretty hurtful things. P.S, is she like on drugs or something?' I snorted, as I glared at her. She seemed not to notice me, but there was a bronze-haired boy that held my gaze for a while, seemingly furious at me...I think, who cared anyway?

'Serves her right, the Cullens are such snobs. They turn their noses up at everyone and everything around them, and act as if they're god's gift to mankind or something - hm, mind if I dish around some gossip about the Cullens being on crack? I never noticed before, but I agree, they really do look like drug dealers!' Jessica responded with a giggle.

Lunch went by without further incident, and by the time fifth period started, the rumour headline was 'Cullens on drugs'. I was on a roll, and I loved the reaction it received. The Cullens seemed completely unfazed, but I recall a statuesque blonde dressed in expensive gear look more than slightly pissed at the whispering, as if she was going to bite someone or whatever...

But when I walked into my favourite class of the day, I couldn't help but falter, when I saw the absolutely murderous stare Edward Cullen was giving me - and the only empty chair in the room was on his desk.

_Crap..._

**Review please, I'd love to read the opinions of all of my readers. A follow/favourite would be nice too! :D **

**Responses to Reviews **

**Kinola: ****So do I, orange one - so, do, I (Puppet Pals reference, couldn't help it! ^^). Actually, I'm letting our dear narrator wing it, it's much for fun than planning. Of course I've got some form of a plot line, but she'll just surprise us in her own insane way. I too, am excited to see what she gets up too! **

**frombehindthekeyboard:**** And that request has been fulfilled, it's nice to see that you're so enthusiastic about my story. What are you excited to see? **


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